


Snow Day

by MarshmallowMocha



Series: Marshmallow Fluff [1]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom
Genre: Explicit Language, Fluff, M/M, No beta I die, Other, Swearing, Uhhhh..., also if im missing any tags lemme know, gman is mentioned briefly so i dont tag, i wrote this in one day dont judge, snow days babeeyyy, this originally was gonna be just shenanigans but it turned into a frenrey fic with a side of boomer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowMocha/pseuds/MarshmallowMocha
Summary: The Science Team, post ResCas get a surprise when it snows.
Relationships: Boomer - Relationship, Frenrey - Relationship
Series: Marshmallow Fluff [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001421
Comments: 12
Kudos: 131





	Snow Day

With the team finally making it to the surface, a lot of things came with it; sure, aliens were no longer roaming the earth but opening a portal through space/time has its consequences. 

One of those is how it’s currently snowing in the middle of the day here in New Mexico. Sure, it’s currently December, with Christmas fast approaching but even with the cooler months, you’d be lucky to get a light dusting. Now, it’s currently coming down like Gordon’s only seen up north, a good 6 inches already coating the ground in a cool white blanket.

“Woah,” Gordon murmurs, pausing on his task of unloading the dishwasher in favor of staring in confusion out the window. He quickly shakes his head, however, learning not to question things after the events that took place only a month ago and places the dishes into the cupboard, his prosthetic although lacks feeling, work gingerly with the plates placing them down and working deftly.

“GORDON!” A gruff voice calls out, as multiple footsteps rush down the hall, to his door pounding on it in a panic, “GORDON, OPEN THE FUCK UP!”

Gordon, panicking, drops a plate with a loud shatter. Without blinking, he rushes to the door but hesitates to open it opting to peek through the peephole instead. His eyes land upon a pair of glasses, obscuring the irises of the other. A wave of not necessarily relief, but more like realization washes through him and he opens the door.

“GORDON!” Their voice yells out, “GORDON, THE WORLD IS ENDING!”

“Bubby,” Gordon groans, “Calm down; what the fuck are you talking about?”

“THE-”

 **“GORDON, ASH IS FALLING FROM THE SKY!!!”** Dr. Coomer interrupts them, placing a hand on Bubby’s shoulder.

“Guys, It’s just snow,” Gordon informs, almost laughing but stopping himself to instead trying to understand their lifetime of underground captivity, “Sure, it’s not normal for New Mexico, but it’s normal for earth in general. It’s hella cold, though, so be sure to bundle up. Now. I gotta-”

“Mister- Mister Freeman!” Tommy joins in the shouting, however, less panicked and more just shouty in general, flapping his hands and jumping in place, “It’s- It’s snowing! We- We should build… build snowmen! and f- we could- snow angels!”

“Guys, I-”

“AH!” Dr. Coomer lights up, a fire in his eyes, interrupting Gordon, “Well, gentlemen, as scientists we should go out there and see for ourselves!”

Before anyone could really respond, Dr. Coomer dashes off, bounding down the hallway to the stairs to descend their apartment.

“HURRY UP!” Bubby immediately bandwagons, rushing the others to follow along down the hall.

Gordon sighs heavily, shaking his head with a dry chuckle, “I’ll catch up; gotta bundle up first, you guys go on-”

“Ok, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy gives a curt wave before dashing to catch up with the rest of The Science Team.

“...and you’re gone,” Gordon murmurs to himself, “Cool.”

He steps back, closing the door and returning to the mess he left the kitchen in, sighing deeply before swiftly sweeping up the porcelain remains of one of the few plates he owns. He nods to himself, proud of his job before moving onto his bedroom, pulling out his wool socks, thick sweatpants, and a thick sweater putting them on quickly in a desperate attempt to catch up with the wild cards that are The Science Team.

His orange sweater is a little too small and his faded gray sweatpants are a little too loose but he’ll make due, rushing to grab his baggy orange coat and his winter boots from his storage, glad he kept these things on a whim when he moved down south for work.

He slipped on the boots, the feeling uncomfortable, however, not as bad as the HEV suit’s boots and the coat, similar to his sweater is a bit snug. He shuffled out the door, locking it behind him and making sure it’s secure on the lanyard around his neck. He’s gotten into the habit of keeping his things a bit more secure after having to crawl through his window after returning from the Chuck E’ Cheese.

He opts to take the elevator, even though he should exercise more, he deems it ok to be a little lazy on these things after running constantly for a week.

He makes his way outside, wondering what the team has gotten into now considering what shit they’d pull during his time wrangling them during the apocalypse but here they are.

To find himself pleasantly surprised is certainly new.

Bubby has taken to making snow angels quite well, the shared lawn now covered in scrawny rough shapes, and footprints.

Dr. Coomer is making an impressive snowman, the ball almost as tall as Gordon, rolling up discarded snow angels, and clumps of leaves in the snow.

Tommy is running around, chasing Sunkist and being chased, hoping over snow angels as if to preserve them even though Dr. Coomer will come over in a matter of seconds, absorbing all of Tommy’s and Bubby’s hard work.

“I see you’re all enjoying this,” Gordon smirks, a laugh on his lips.

“You took your fucking time,” Bubby approaches shivering like a leaf, only wearing a sweater and a pair of boots, now soaked in melted snow, the dirt speckles the light blue fabric. And the boots weren’t made for this weather, the knitted look now just as soaked if not more.

“Bubby, You-” Gordon places his left hand on their shoulder, only to immediately retract his hand with a flinch, “God, you’re freezing! You gotta get inside, man, you need to- You’re going to get sick!”

“Don’t fucking tell me-” Bubby interrupts themselves with a hefty sneeze, catching it in the crook of their arm, “Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

“Dude, come inside and I’ll make you some hot cocoa-”

“If you can’t handle the cold you should just say so, Dr. Pussy!” Dr. Coomer booms, now on his second snowball the size of a decent beach ball, the tightly packed package of snow slowly moves along, picking up tracks of snow in the still stormy weather. Gordon eyes Dr. Coomer’s also soaked clothing with an eyebrow raised at him. 

“I’m fine!” He scoffs, waving his hands around to show off his winter gear, “It’s actually quite nice out, I just want you guys catching a cold!”

“Mr- Mr. F- Free- m- man!” Tommy shivers, breathing heavily from playing with the horse-sized dog, Sunkist, who is currently just as soaked as his owner, “I- I- If y- you- you’re c- cold y- you sh- should j- just s- s- say so!”

“Come on, guys,” Gordon chuckles, shaking his head with a stifled laugh, “Whatever, I’m not taking care of you guys if you all get a cold.”

Bubby flops down back first into the thick slush of snow, but cranes their neck over to eye Gordon over, “What the fuck is a cold?”

“The common cold, also known simply as a cold, is a viral infectious disease of the upper respiratory tract that primarily affects the nose. The throat, sinuses, and larynx may also be affected. Signs and symptoms may appear less than two days after exposure to the virus. These may include coughing, sore throat, runny nose, sneezing, headache, and fever. People usually recover in seven to ten days, but some symptoms may last up to three weeks. Occasionally, those with other health problems may develop pneumonia,” Dr. Coomer hollers out, placing the now large ball of snow on top of the base one, having to use his extendo arms to get it to sit right and he stands on his tiptoes as well to crane his neck up in concentration.

“Thanks, Dr. Coomer!” Gordon responds quickly, interrupting the infodump, “Listen, I-”

“D- D- Don’t worry, M- Mr. F-Freeman!” Tommy places a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump from the sudden appearance, “W- W- We w- will b- be f- f- fine!”

“I highly doubt that,” Gordon scoffs, “But, ok, just to let you know if you feel too cold, let me know, ok?”

Tommy nods vigorously before returning to play fetch with the gargantuan dog.

“What’s going- What’s going on here?” Benrey is the next to jumpscare Gordon, their voice peeked in curiosity, “What’s- What’s all this?”

“Hey, Benrey,” Gordon dryly chuckles, “It’s snowing out; do you… like it?”

“Mmmm…” Benrey eyes the falling snowflakes, some landing on their eyelashes, then with an obnoxious noise they open their mouth, “M’LAAAAAHHH.”

“Dude,” Gordon chuckles, leaning a little on the shorter one, crow’s feet crinkling and his smile wide, “What are you doing?”

A bit of Sweet Voice™ signifying their confusion with a shade of orange slips out, the tone small but noticed by the other.

“It’s- snow is-”

“Snow comprises individual ice crystals that grow while suspended in the atmosphere—usually within clouds—and then fall, accumulating on the ground where they undergo further changes. It consists of frozen crystalline water throughout its life cycle, starting when, under suitable conditions, the ice crystals form in the atmosphere, increase to millimeter size, precipitate and accumulate on surfaces, then metamorphose in place, and ultimately melt, slide or sublimate away!” Dr. Coomer hefts another snowball on top of the stack, wobbling a little from the weight. For some reason, the third one is just as big if not bigger than the base one and it doesn’t quite sit right, but somehow it stays there. Maybe due to the physics of the game or maybe something else, regardless, Gordon almost forgets to interrupt the man to avoid another ‘chair’ incident.

“Thanks, Dr. Coomer,” Gordon says dryly, still leaning on Benrey and not noticing the pink Sweet Voice™ being swatted away from the small alien next to him, “If you’re all done, I can make you all some soup and maybe some hot cocoa to warm up?”

“Splendid!” Dr. Coomer booms out before swiftly punching his snowman, toppling it with a single hit, the snowballs breaking apart and some of it lands on top of Bubby burying the pyrotechnic instantly, “Hello, Gor- Come, now! Let us celebrate!”

He runs in, bursting through the doors so quickly if they were breakable surely they’d be disintegrated along with the now ruined snowman in the middle of the lawn.

Bubby, using their fire prowess, melts a decent amount of snow, burning the grass where they lay and steam rises up melting any snowflakes even approaching them.

“C’mon, Bubby,” Gordon shuffles over, holding out his prosthetic to the other, “Let’s head inside.”

Bubby mumbles something under their breath but takes his hand and with a grunt is lifted up off the ground. Gordon ignores the ash on his prosthetic, and instead notes how Bubby immediately dashes past.

“Hurry up!” They scoff, “Fucking slowpoke…”

Gordon merely rolls his eyes, turning his attention to Tommy, but only gets a glance as he follows Bubby instantly.

“C- c- c’mon M- Mr. Fr- Freeman!”

 **“BOF!”** Sunkist agrees with Tommy, excited Sweet Voice™ escaping the canine’s lips.

“Here,” Gordon nudges Benrey, who has been standing there with their tongue out this entire time, chuckling fondly, “Let’s head inside, you weirdo.”

They take his hand and they head inside together, with Gordon now noticing the thick coat the other adorns, he raises an eyebrow.

“Checking- Checking me out, Mr. uhhh… Mr. Gayman?” Benrey smirks, blush dusting across their cheeks and their pupils dilated, blown wide and obscuring most of their yellow irises.

“I just like your coat,” Gordon defends on instinct but a wide smirk takes over his panicked demeanor, nudging them playfully with his arm, “And maybe I am, huh? You’d like that.”

Dodging the following stream of gay panic Sweet Voice™, the hot pink to dark blue syrupy bubbles bouncing around the ceiling and leaving temporary streaks of color, they both make it to Gordon’s apartment with relative ease.

Of course, the others in The Science Team™ have all made their way inside, dripping cold water all over the, thankfully, hardwood floors.

“Alright,” Gordon surmises the damage, “I’ll go get some towels and some spare clothes for you guys while we dry off your clothes and then I start up some soup, ok?”

They all nod, and let out differing noises of affirmation, letting Gordon go off and pick out some spare clothes he’s fine with letting go of as inevitably the team can and will ruin them.

He comes back, throwing some towels over each of their heads, “Ok, so you can use either the bathroom or the laundry room to change; I’ll start with some lunch for you guys, ok?”

More affirmatives from the others as he starts up some canned soup in a pan. Benrey joins him, not needing to change or anything, merely walking him from their spot on the counter.

“Hey, Benrey,” Gordon doesn’t look up from slowly stirring the pot, “Could you sing to me?”

“Wh-!” Benrey nearly chokes on the Sweet Voice™ spurting out of him like a faucet in a high-pitched almost whine, “That’s- Uh… Th- That’s kinda- dude, I-”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to!” Gordon is quick to jump on defense, now making eye contact with them, “I just- I like- I have an- an easier time if it’s not just silence, you know? It’s either Joshua’s here or I have music playing and I-”

Benrey interrupts his gay panic with a note, then a melody, something Gordon barely recognizes if at all, and the gentle notes, combined with the pastel rainbow of Sweet Voice™ esque clouds wafting through the air makes him not want to question the origin of the almost haunting melody. He sighs, a gentle smile spread across his face as he returns back to the instant tomato soup, swaying gently to the rhythm.

It doesn’t take long for the soup to be served, and for him to start a kettle of water for some hot cocoa, and they all sit down and enjoy the soup.

“Fucking, Tomato?” Bubby berates incredulously, “Seriously?”

“I don’t have anything else,” Gordon shrugs, taking a cautious sip before returning to his food, “I usually keep some chicken noodle in stock for Joshie but it’s not my month with Joshua so I didn’t feel a need to buy anything else? Also, I didn’t expect it to fucking snow!”

More grumbles from Bubby, but he doesn’t object anymore, still holding the towel over their head in some semblance to keep themselves warm, even with the old faded MIT hoodie and sweats they’re shivering. Dr. Coomer seems to be fine in the short-sleeved shirt, with the words ‘[O] [Mg]’ faded on the front, old pajama pants rolled up at the ankles as he’s holding bubby close, also aiding in the attempt to warm them up.

Tommy is leaning on Sunkist, also wearing one of Gordon’s hoodies, (which in retrospect he’s both glad and disappointed in his past self for buying so many of those things) and is really enjoying the tomato soup, practically beaming into the rust-colored glossy surface and enjoying every sip with a huge grin.

Benrey is Benrey, so of course, they’ve already finished the bowl with fervor, not even attempting to cool it down, probably not needing to.

Gordon joins in after sufficiently making sure his soup is cool enough to gulp down, using bits of crackers he offered to the others, only Benrey taking him up on that and eating a whole pack, wrapper and all before having to be stopped from downing another ravenously. 

Once finished, Gordon with help from his begrudging roommate, Benrey, loads the dishes into the dishwasher before brewing a cup of hot cocoa with a large dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon on top. Gordon hands them out before sitting down with his best Dad Look™, overlapping his hand with his prosthetic, the cool metal over his organic left as he taps the back of his hand as a sort of tick unable to sit still in thought.

“Ok,” He finally speaks up after everyone’s taken a long sip from their cups, “You all need winter clothes, if it keeps snowing outside, that is. You could get frostbite, or sick and I- I worry about you all, you know?”

“It’s- It’s ok, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy beams, leaning towards him, “I’ll- I’ll go ask my- my- my dad for help!”

And with that, Tommy steps out and Sunkist follows, the dog still having a towel over his back as they leave and bound down the hall, his empty cup remaining.

“Well!” Dr. Coomer clasps his hands together, “We should get going as well! Professor Bubby and I shall head back to our place and warm up!”

“Doctor,” Bubby responds, chugging down the last of their hot cocoa before following Dr. Coomer out into the hall as the argument over Bubby’s title continues, slowly quieting down the further they go. 

“WHAT about… Nevermind…” Gordon sighs, smiling to himself before he closes the door behind them, only having drunk half of his cocoa then returns to sit next to Benrey, who’s attempting to take a bite out of their mug with their sharp teeth. Either they’re not trying hard enough, or ceramic is their weakness as their teeth don’t make a dent in the finished surface yet their jaw doesn’t stop moving.

“Benrey,” Gordon gently scolds, taking the mug from them and replacing it in their mouth with their chewelry, getting a quick surprised look only for it to fade back into their blank expression. He gathers up the dishes and adds them to the dishwasher, then starts the now full machine.

He takes a step back into Benrey, letting out a soft sound, “Oh!”

He turns to face the one still chewing on the alien-shaped silicone on a necklace draped around their neck, they usually make eye contact but now are staring adamantly at the floor in thought.

“Benrey?” Gordon raises an eyebrow at them, “You uh… you good?”

“You-” They begin, chewelry still in between their teeth, but opt to spit it out, a gross trail of saliva painting their PlayStation hoodie, “Freeman doesn’t- can’t handle silence? Needs his ol’ pal Benrey to sings- to sings to him? Kinda- Kinda gay if you- if you ask me, uhh… Mr. Gayman.”

“What…? Oh,” His confusion turns into realization, then he gives them a soft gaze, a smile forming, “I like your singing, Ben. That’s why I asked, and- and if that makes me gay, then I guess I am.”

Benrey practically hiccups out a string of Sweet Voice™, the light orbs resembling pink cotton candy, turning to blue.

“Do you wanna… I dunno,” Gordon adverts his gaze, nervously chuckling, “Do you just want to hang out and sing to me? I’d… I’d like that…”

Benrey nods vigorously, their chullo nearly flinging off.

“Ok,” Gordon chuckles, adjusting their hat then grabs them by the hand, leading them to the living room and sitting down in front of the windowsill on the couch motioning to them to join. They do so, after a beat of processing what’s going on, and they sit slightly far away and stiffly too.

“Ben,” Gordon smiles, stifling a laugh, “C’mere. I don’t bite.”

“W- What if- If I do, huh?” Benrey smirks wide with the biggest shit-eating grin, before doing a snapping motion at him with his jaw.

“I’ll be careful,” Gordon wiggles his fingers at them, “I’ll keep my hands to myself, just scoot in, alright?”

After a beat of consideration, they nod, most likely to themselves, and then scoot weirdly over, wiggling until they’re close enough to knock their knees together.

After another beat of silence, with Benrey stealing glances at him, Gordon does just that to get their attention.

“Huh?” They choke out, having difficulty concentrating due to how close they are, knees resting together.

“You gonna sing or are you going to just keep staring?” Gordon smirks, leaning towards them with an eyebrow raised.

They let out a panicked sound, then they clear their throat, letting out a few experimental notes before resuming the melody from earlier.

He looks out the window, watching the heavy snowfall with heavy leads before the knowledge of the source of the melody clicks.

“Wait,” Gordon speaks up, looking them in the eyes. They choke on their Sweet Voice™, stopping with their blood drained from their face. Gordon chokes himself only on a laugh bubbling up, “Is that… are you singing ‘La Vie En Rose’?”

“It’s- It’s ‘La Vie En Rose’,” Benrey enunciates in a French accent, “and uhhh… what if- what if I am, Freeman?” 

Benrey blushes deeply, looking down at the ground and chewing their bottom lip while tugging their chullo hat down over their face.

“It’s nice,” Gordon’s smirk turns soft, nudging them, “Can I hear some more? It sounds beautiful.”

They choke out some more pink to blue, then resume the melody. Gordon looks back out the window, the different lights reflecting in the window’s glass. Gordon’s eyes grow heavy, walking the snow falling past the window and listening to the gentle tune. He leans over, onto Benrey's shoulder with a content sigh. They flinch in surprise, the song stopping briefly with a quick high-pitched tone before resuming, the Sweet Voice™ indicating the pining idiot’s feelings bouncing around with the other notes to the song.


End file.
